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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499646">Something In Return</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/titillating_commentary/pseuds/titillating_commentary'>titillating_commentary</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whose Eyes Would Reply to Mine [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Frankenstein - Mary Shelley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Fluff and Smut, Could Be Canon, Denial of Feelings, Dom Victor Frankenstein, Dom/sub Play, Explicit Consent, Hand Jobs, Kinky, Light Dom/sub, M/M, POV Male Character, Slight Tenderness, Teasing, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Walton is an emotional bottom, light verbal embarrassment, non-physical orgasm delay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:28:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499646</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/titillating_commentary/pseuds/titillating_commentary</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Out of curiosity, I've been reading some of the letters you have yet to finish writing..." His hands brushed over his shoulder, sweeping down his chest as his voice lowered, "You've discussed me in quite flattering terms…” Victor leaned closer into the back of his neck as he spoke, “As I am, being now even in a wreck, so <em>attractive</em> and <em>amiable</em>.” His hot breath hit the back of Walton’s ear as he continued, “And I’m certain I owe you a great deal, both for your hospitality, and the medical attention you’ve provided.” He inhaled as Victor spoke almost against his skin, the silvery tones of his voice seeming to reverberate through him.</p><p>"I dislike owing anyone."</p><p>***</p><p>Or, Walton's favour is graciously returned. </p><p> </p><p>- The Theif of Pears</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Victor Frankenstein/Robert Walton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whose Eyes Would Reply to Mine [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670854</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Something In Return</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>“He must have been a noble creature in his better days, being even now in a wreck so attractive and amiable.” - Mary Shelley</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Days passed without any mention of the incident that had occurred between them. </p><p>Robert Walton had a vague sense that he had been used; that he was nothing more to Victor than a face pleasing enough to look at, and a warm touch where one had been lacking. This thought pained him more than he would have liked to admit. </p><p>He sat at his desk in his small office corner, staring at the same sheet of paperwork he’d been attempting to read for minutes without truly taking in any of the words. He had been sleeping poorly, worried that if he failed to glance at Victor every few hours, his condition might rapidly worsen. He knew he should heed the assurances of his men that it was merely a fever, the dangerous phase of which had passed, and that he needed his rest to provide any effectual care at all. Besides, he knew that Victor himself certainly had no intention of dying until the mysterious ‘task’, which he fixated on to the point of obsession, was completed. </p><p>Shaking his head, Walton inhaled deeply to clear his mind as he pressed his pen to the page. He jumped as a hand settled upon his shoulder and he became aware of a presence behind him, his pulse thudding in his ears. He turned sharply in his seat, instinctively throwing back his arm. He stopped short, however, as he realized it was only Victor, who winced at the impact.</p><p>"Oh... you frightened me awfully." He sighed, his shoulders relaxing, though his heart beat painfully. </p><p>"Did you not hear my footsteps, Walton?” Victor sounded almost amused, a rarity for him. His hands came to rest on his shoulders again, and he began to gently rub his thumbs in small circles at the base of his neck, as though attempting to smooth out the tension that lingered there.</p><p>Walton was further startled by his closeness, and the intimacy and warmth of his hands as they moved downwards, rhythmically stroking his shoulders. The gentle, insistent motion sent shivers racing down the whole of his back, and caused goosebumps to rise in their wake.</p><p>"You... you really shouldn't be out of bed yet." He said, turning his head. "And you must try to remain near the fire."</p><p>Victor only sighed, seeming agitated. "I have recovered much of my strength. I suppose I must thank you for seeing to my health so attentively. In truth, I have been able to walk for a few days now, though I refrained from doing so in your presence, for I knew you would protest.”</p><p>Walton was surprised at this news, though he was glad to hear that Victor was making such an expedient recovery. Victor continued without giving him a chance to speak.</p><p>"Out of curiosity, I've been reading some of the letters you have yet to finish writing..." His hands brushed over his shoulder, sweeping down his chest as his voice lowered, "You've discussed me in quite flattering terms…” Victor leaned closer into the back of his neck as he spoke, “As I am, being now even in a wreck, so  <em>attractive</em> and <em>amiable</em>.” His hot breath hit the back of Walton’s ear as he continued, “And I’m certain I owe you a great deal, both for your hospitality, and the medical attention you’ve provided.” He inhaled as Victor spoke almost against his skin, the silvery tones of his voice seeming to reverberate through him.</p><p>"I dislike owing anyone."</p><p>Walton mentally cursed himself for leaving his letters lying around. Heat rose to his cheeks as Victor's hands traveled under his jacket, gently sliding it off one of his shoulders. </p><p>"I... I don't quite see what you're getting at." Walton said shakily, standing up and pushing his chair askew. His pulse was beginning to quicken dangerously at the tone of Victor’s voice. However, as he turned to fully face him, Victor merely laid a hand on his shoulder, regarding him coolly.</p><p>"I was under the impression that I spoke clearly," he said, and Walton was unable to protest as Victor finished removing his jacket and leaned closer. "You provided me with such <em>attentive</em><br/>
care when I was ill," he said quietly, and Walton inhaled tremulously as his nimble hands began to undo the buttons on his shirt. "If not for your help, I may not have experienced so quick a release from my illness." He paused to run his fingertips lightly along Walton's jaw, tilting his head up ever so slightly with his index finger. </p><p>"I must do something in return." Victor spoke, almost warmly. He continued swiftly undoing buttons until Walton’s shirt lay open. Pausing, he hovered his hand at his collarbone and traced a finger lightly down his chest, drawing a gasp as his touch came to rest at his waist, just above where the heat was beginning to gather in the pit of his stomach. “That is, if you’d like me to,” he finished.</p><p>For a moment Walton could only nod, slightly dumbstruck by the want that suddenly made his skin tingle. He cleared his throat, though when he spoke his voice was still thick. “Yes, I… I would like that.”</p><p> Victor nodded and drew his touch upwards until his hand pressed into his shoulder lightly, urging him to sit down once more. Walton did so, at a loss for words as Victor lowered to his knees in front of him, looking up with an exacting gaze. </p><p>Walton trembled, and had difficulty meeting his eyes, though he did so, blushing madly. </p><p>"You are awfully flustered," Victor murmured, his long fingers gracefully undoing the buttons of his breeches, "and yet we've hardly started." </p><p>Walton swallowed, for he seemed to be laughing at him with his dark eyes, though despite his indignation he found it strangely endearing. He was quickly becoming hot and flushed as Victor's hands brushed against the fabric which constituted the only thin barrier between them. In a few moments Victor finished undoing the buttons, exposing his evident arousal, and sat back, though Walton still ached for his touch.</p><p>He looked up at Walton with a hint of amusement on his face. "Now," he said lightly, "what are my orders, Captain?" </p><p>Walton's breath caught, his face burning as Victor watched him, waiting for a response. He had never heard his title spoken like that before, like he was being given a command.</p><p>"I would... I would like you to touch me," Walton's voice was strained and barely audible. He glanced up briefly to meet Victor’s eyes, watching as he laid his slender hand ever so lightly on his knee, tracing feather-light patterns against the fabric. Walton inhaled sharply, feeling the fire that had been kindled inside of him only grow in intensity. </p><p>"Of course,” Victor agreed, his voice low as he continued tracing his fingers down his leg. “Here?” he said coyly, his touch skimming Walton’s knee before gliding up again. He glanced up at his face, a slight smile playing upon his lips as he reached Walton’s stomach and continued up to his chest. His airy touch sent chills down Walton's body, equally brought on by pleasure and tense anticipation. He drew his fingertips lightly along Walton’s neck and took hold of his cheek briefly, surveying him in a way that made his face burn before Victor's fingers ran down to his chin, gently tilting his head down. Somehow, the act felt like a challenge, as though he were affirming imperiously that Walton lacked the nerve to correct him.</p><p>Walton struggled to find a way of articulating what he wanted, unable to look Victor in the eyes as he trailed his hand lightly down his neck to his collarbone, seemingly absorbed in tracing the muscles of his shoulders, the planes of his chest.</p><p>"Oh, you must have meant here," Victor said in a tone of false realization, as his hand skimmed lower, and his thumb rubbed harshly over his nipple. He sucked in a breath, shuddering as he shook his head instinctively.</p><p>Walton inhaled sharply as Victor's hands slipped lower still, smoothing over his stomach and brushing his sides delicately.</p><p>"Or did you mean here?" Victor said, as his hands hovered over the terribly sensitive skin at his inner thigh. The oncoming hint of being touched there caused Walton's muscles to involuntarily contract.</p><p>"Are you perhaps feeling ill?" Victor said, feigning doctorly seriousness for only a moment. "You seem to be exhibiting a few feverish symptoms," he continued cooly, and Walton jolted a bit as he lightly brushed the skin below his stomach, shivering as goosebumps prickled his skin. He hadn't realized it to be such a sensitive area.</p><p>"Chills," Victor said dryly, meeting his eyes as he moved his hand painfully near, though not near  enough, to the aching heat at Walton's groin. "An increase in temperature as well. Tell me, what type of assistance do you require?" A glint of humour flashed from his eyes as he paused expectantly, rubbing small circles against the tender skin with his thumbs. </p><p>"Where do you want to be touched, Walton?" Victor said with greater firmness.</p><p>"I... I would like you to touch..." Walton gazed down at himself, muttering something unintelligible. Victor shot him a disapproving glance, and he averted his gaze, feeling strangely as though he'd disobeyed a superior.</p><p>"Do speak up a bit," Victor said sternly, tapping a finger lightly against his skin.</p><p>"My..." Walton shut his eyes and attempted again to gather his resolve.</p><p>"Your cock?" Victor said playfully, causing Walton's heart to stutter painfully for a brief moment, blood rushing unbidden to his face. His eyes snapped open, and he nodded curtly.</p><p>"If you'd like me to do that," Victor continued, "why don't you look at me, and give me your orders?"</p><p>Walton trembled as he raised his eyes gradually to meet Victor's gaze. "Please..." he began, but it seemed that he had finally satisfied Victor enough for him to comply. Without warning, he gripped him firmly, his hand cool against the heat that pulsed beneath his skin. </p><p>"No need to be so formal, Captain," he chided, watching as Walton shifted uncomfortably, desperately trying to restrain himself from moving. It quickly became too much for his patience to withstand, however, and he shifted his hips forwards, seeking the friction he longed for and averting his gaze.</p><p>"I thought sailors were known to possess at least a modicum of self-control." Victor's voice was low, almost amused.</p><p>Walton inhaled in surprise as Victor leaned forwards and ran his warm tongue along his inner thigh, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin there, and continued to where the heat pulsed beneath his hand. He groaned, clenching his jaw and gripping the arms of his chair as Victor paused and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to his lower abdomen. There was something strangely careful and even tender about this action, and Walton’s breath was briefly choked from him, as he felt his heart tugged painfully this way and that; for Victor had read his letters, and had seen the looks of sympathy and compassion  Walton couldn’t help expressing when told snippets of his past.</p><p>Victor’s lips trailed downwards, drawing a gasp from him when they reached their destination, and Walton felt he could somehow sense the turbulent emotions he was experiencing. </p><p>A startled noise escaped his mouth, and he jerked forwards in his seat as he felt the warmth of Victor's tongue moistening his burning skin. He gripped the arms of his chair harder, but found himself longing for something more to grab hold of at the heat of Victor's mouth, the gentle pressure of his tongue. His breath came quickly, loudly, a strange sigh was forced from his chest, then another. </p><p>Victor very quickly drew him into the exhilarating warmth of his mouth, and his limbs felt as though they were melting. He felt the muscles of Victor's throat constrict around him as he gagged slightly, and the unexpected jolt of sensation that washed over him at this prevented him from voicing his concern. </p><p>Walton saw that Victor's shoulders hitched somewhat as he pulled away, and that he had shut his eyes. He opened them, his gaze flicking up briefly to observe Walton's flushed and startled appearance, his lips parted as he sucked in air as though he were drowning.</p><p>“Are... are you alright?" Walton said, attempting to express his concern with some difficulty.</p><p>"Yes, quite." Victor snapped, though his eyes appeared watery as he glanced up once more, now with marked irritation. "Though, I don't recall having asked you to voice your concerns."</p><p>Victor placed one hand on his trembling thigh, drew in a short breath, and began a steady motion up and down - though not quite so far down. He kept his grip with his other hand, gently assisting the work of his mouth by rubbing his fingers along the length of Walton's exposed, flush skin. </p><p>It was a tremendous effort to heed the slight pressure of Victor's hand as it slid to his right hip, administering an unspoken command to remain still. Walton strained to do so, wondering if anyone could have made him feel such a way, or if the fact that it was Victor's mouth against him, and Victor's hands, elegant and firm, that made him feel every sensation so intensely.</p><p>He wanted badly to touch Victor's dark disheveled hair, to thread his fingers through it, grounding himself against the all-encompassing heat and sensation that surged through his body. He refrained, however, for he felt strangely as though he should ask for permission. </p><p>“May I touch you?” Walton said thickly, his voice unsteady.</p><p>Victor paused, the heat of his mouth disappearing as he glanced up with a faint smile. “You aren’t going to say please?” He murmured, dragging his fingernail lightly along the crease at Walton’s hip. “You are always so polite, ready to plead and beg patiently... I rather like it, in fact, it’s endearing really.”</p><p>“Fine,” Walton began reluctantly, “May I... please, may I touch you?” He stammered, attempting to hide his frustration, and to conceal that Victor’s taunt had caused him to throb in his grasp, and the tension in his lower belly to sharpen.</p><p>Victor merely nodded as he lowered his head, resuming the motions that were pleasurable to an almost painful degree. Walton exhaled shakily as he reached for Victor’s hair, running his fingers through the soft strands gently. He tightened his grip as the feeling began to build to an overwhelming point, and he felt a growing need for release. </p><p>“God...” he groaned, his fingers digging into Victor’s scalp, “I think...” it would take merely a few more seconds, and then...</p><p>He spluttered in astonishment when Victor pulled back from him entirely, immediately feeling a great loss at the absence of his touch, the warmth of his mouth. </p><p>“Control yourself, now,” Victor chastised lightly, sitting back on his heels to gaze up at him, seemingly amused at his shocked expression, the way his hips shifted involuntarily at the lack of touch. Walton’s body was tense, on the verge of the release he urgently needed, and he huffed impatiently at the delay as Victor observed him almost clinically. Despite this frustration, he felt arousal twitch harder in the pit of his stomach at Victor’s gaze, only causing his need to worsen.</p><p>“Here you are,” Victor began musically, his voice a low hum, “my mouth on your cock, and yet we know hardly anything about one another.” The light from Walton’s kerosene writing lamp reflected in his dark eyes, and flashed, it seemed to him, like lightning in the hands of an impetuous god.</p><p>Walton said nothing as he continued, though he squirmed at Victor’s use of the harsh word. </p><p>“I’ve heard you English frequently indulge in indiscriminate activities with whomever suits your fancy, but we Swiss are not imbued with such a lack of delicacy, and as such,” Victor seated himself in the spare chair next to Walton’s desk, leaning backwards in a casual manner, “I would like to know a few things about you.” </p><p>As Victor spoke his eyes traveled leisurely the length of Walton’s bare skin, lingering on his lower body before snapping up to meet his agitated gaze. “Would you call yourself a religious man?”</p><p>“I... I don’t see how that possibly matters?" Walton scoffed, giving him a pleading look despite his annoyance. </p><p>“Well,” Victor sighed, “I know you English like to call yourselves God-fearing men, although... those of you I’ve met seem to be quite unafraid of sin.” He glanced pointedly at him. “Wouldn’t you agree that fearing any idea so abstract as God is absurd, Captain Walton?” </p><p>Victor’s voice held a teasing lightness that told Walton he was taking pleasure in holding what he wanted within his reach, and refusing to grant it to him. Walton attempted to compose himself enough to answer, but responded with merely a strained nod. He clenched his hands at his sides and attempted to breathe evenly.</p><p>“And sin, what is it really?” Victor began, standing and beginning to pace the room as he spoke, “Something to make people afraid of dying - as though dying were the beginning of something, and not the end.” Victor continued to talk, turning away from Walton. His hand moved, almost against his will, towards the burning heat at his groin. He felt as though the tension he was gripped with must be alleviated somehow, and he was unable to restrain himself.</p><p>“Sin,” Victor continued, “is merely the fear of others projected onto the self, so we can feel at peace with everything we do, and walk about as upright citizens.” He paused, turning and looking displeased in a way Walton hadn’t yet seen. </p><p>“Stop that,” he said, quite seriously, “you don’t seem to be paying attention, am I boring you?” Victor moved back to where he sat, kneeling in front of him. Leaning an elbow on Walton’s knee, he rested his head in his hand and looked up at him.</p><p>“No need to be in such a hurry, Captain... or would you rather I leave you to take care of things yourself again?” Victor said, his teeth flashing like a knife as he smiled coyly.</p><p>“Again?” Walton whined in exasperation. </p><p>“I’ll admit,” Victor continued, “I was surprised - you are the first to have begun an encounter so intimate with me. I had not expected it to be quite so enjoyable.” </p><p>Heat raced up the back of Walton’s neck as he realized with a start what Victor was making reference to, and he was struck with the realization that his actions had perhaps carried more gravity than he realized - but he hadn’t known, couldn’t have known... and was this praise he was now receiving? His head spun, and he had not a moment to think things over, for Victor’s cool hand ran against his neck, as though to assuage what was aflame beneath his skin. He gasped, his body lurching weakly forwards, yearning for more contact.</p><p>“I wouldn’t have guessed you to be so skilled with your hands, so well disciplined. I would have responded in kind, but the fatigue caused by my illness overcame me.” Victor’s voice had reached a low murmur, and there was something strangely gentle, almost caring, in it, and for a moment his words seemed to linger in the air. “I wish to take care of you in turn.” </p><p>Walton breathed in, and the sounds caught in his chest, thrumming lowly along with his pulse for one sweet, drowning moment as Victor took hold of him once more. Walton shivered at the pleasant, alleviating coolness of his palm, though the effect was lessened as Victor only began moving his hand in intolerably slow, gentle motions. He was unable to suppress a small, breathy sound of disappointment as he rolled his hips impatiently.</p><p>“I suppose,” Victor began, speaking very softly and slowly, “I haven’t yet asked you how it is you’d like to be touched. I apologize for my inconsideration.” The hint of a smile touched his lips. “Perhaps it would be helpful if you were to tell me how you usually go about the matter yourself?”</p><p>Walton stared at him dumbly. Victor continued, “Take, for example, a few days ago. Did you not take matters into your own hands that evening?”</p><p>Walton shook his head, swallowing.</p><p>“So you’re lying to me?” Victor murmured, and the motions of his hand nearly ceased entirely, so light did they become. “You may want to reconsider that, Captain.”</p><p>"Faster... please..." Walton choked out, gripping Victor's shoulder to restrain himself from interfering with his own hands. </p><p>"Faster, that's what you prefer?" Victor said, and was answered by a curt nod. "What, are you unable to speak?" He said, increasing his pace, though not nearly enough. </p><p>"Walton,” he began, his voice suddenly gentle. “It’s not as though this is all for my benefit - I wouldn't employ such unnecessary measures if you didn't seem to enjoy it so very much." Victor rubbed his thumb in a slightly harsher motion, eliciting an involuntary gasp.</p><p>"Yes," Walton moaned. Swallowing hard, he continued, "Not..." he hesitated, "not so gentle." </p><p>Victor raised an eyebrow at him, "No need to raise your voice," he said, feigning disapproval, "you'd prefer to receive more... unrefined treatment?" Victor continued incredulously, though blessedly he began to move his hand faster, his grip tightening. Walton could only nod, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark as he fought to contain himself, to remain still and quiet. </p><p>"I would never have thought you would be the type of man to enjoy pain," Victor spoke, in a tone of genuine surprise. Before the words had entirely left his mouth, he drew his fingernails all the way along Walton's length, dragging them against his sensitive, inflamed skin. The sharp stinging sensation caused him to jump, a breathy moan escaping his lips. </p><p>He was shocked by the sudden feeling, the warmth that further flooded his body. He wanted almost to ask Victor to do it again, though his cheeks burned at this realization. </p><p>"You are so... pretty, like this," Victor reached up, laying his hand against Walton's warm cheek as he panted for breath, "I want to hear you make that sound again." </p><p>The words were spoken in low, silky tones as he gently traced Walton's bottom lip with his thumb. He shivered, his mouth parting slightly as he met Victor's gaze. Removing his hand and lowering his head, Victor gently ran his tongue along the same sensitive area he had just marked with his fingernails, as though in mock apology.</p><p>The sudden shift in sensation drew the air from Walton's chest in a gasp, one of his hands clinging weakly to Victor's hair. Victor paused for a moment, his eyes flickering up darkly. "Simply breathtaking," he murmured, before running his tongue along just his glistening head. Walton felt himself twitch as a soft noise was forced from his mouth, despite his best efforts. Victor smiled and gripped him firmly, moving his hand faster to accommodate the occasional jerk of his hips. </p><p>The somewhat rough motions of Victor’s hand caused his breaths to come in shallow pants, as slight tremors began to work their way through his stiffened muscles. Victor looked up at him knowingly. </p><p>“For God’s sake, you aren’t going to finish already, are you?” He said, and Walton knew from the lightness in his voice that he spoke in amusement.</p><p>Victor seized one of his hands as Walton surrendered fully to the sensations that overtook him, gripping it hard in a reassuring manner, even as Walton groaned and dug his nails into him.</p><p>He half felt as though he were dying, as the heat and tension that had built up within him seemed to discharge all at once, in convulsions of pleasure which caused him to gasp for air as he jerked his hips against Victor’s hand, clutching his other as though to keep him grounded against the waves. </p><p>When it was over, Walton relaxed his hold, suddenly becoming limp under the weight of exhaustion, relieved at the dispelling of tension he hadn’t realized had seized him to such an extent. Hearing a soft sound of surprise, he realized that while most of the warm fluid had ended up on Victor's hand, some of it had spattered his cheek and lower lip. Walton froze, catching the way his surprise quickly shifted to irritation. </p><p>"Well, you've certainly made a bit of a mess, haven't you?" He remarked brusquely, appearing almost flustered for a moment.</p><p>"I'm... I'm sorry." he faltered, reaching out and running his thumb softly along Victor's cheek, helping to remove some of the substance. Victor met his gaze steadily, and suddenly he smiled. Walton was unable to look away as his tongue emerged from his parted lips. Victor’s dark gaze remained fixed on him as he slowly swept it over his soft bottom lip, catching the sticky substance that coated it. He felt his breath catch in his throat. </p><p>"It’s alright," Victor's voice had regained its usual teasing lightness, "at least have the decency to warn me in the future, especially if it takes you so little time." </p><p>Walton felt his heart begin to race at those words. Victor didn't release his grasp, tracing his palm lightly with his thumb and smiling at him. He raised his other hand and began to trail his glistening fingers up Walton's stomach, causing him to shiver. Reaching his chest, he ran them slowly back down, his touch gliding further. Walton jumped as he grazed the sensitive skin below his stomach and continued lower, causing him to make a weak sound of protest as his body shuddered from the slight overstimulation. </p><p>Then, Victor’s touch disappeared, as he stood up, letting go of his hand as he placed Walton’s jacket upon his shoulders. He smoothed it out once and paused.</p><p>“Well, I trust that you have been… recompensed to your satisfaction?” One of Victor’s hands left his shoulder, trailing down his arm. Walton suppressed a shiver as he nodded, attempting to compose himself. </p><p>“You… I… have, Yes.” He said, his breathing beginning to slow, though his limbs felt pleasantly light, and a lingering mist of passion still impeded his thoughts.</p><p>The faintest of smiles hovered upon Victor’s fine features as he moved away briskly, straightening his shirt collar. Dragging up a chair, he seated himself casually, leaning his head in his hand, as though they were two businessmen at a coffee shop, about to engage in an entirely unremarkable discussion. Despite his slight foggy-headedness, Walton saw that Victor was not as indifferent as he attempted to appear, both from the rosy tint that coloured his face, only adding to the brilliance of his features, as well as the straining of fabric which he did not endeavor to conceal.</p><p>“Would you like me to... to do anything?” He offered, as he began to do up the buttons of his breeches in as dignified a manner as he could, given the circumstances. </p><p>“A drink would be wonderful. Something stiff, if you happen to have it.” Victor seemed to find his question, and its unsaid implications, slightly humorous. “Any other needs I may have will be resolved on their own.”</p><p>“Of course.” Walton acquiesced, opening the second drawer in his desk and fishing a flask out from among the papers. He fetched a glass, though he wanted none himself, and Victor watched him pour it with a placated expression. He accepted the drink, raising it nonchalantly to his lips, and sipped at it delicately. Though he remained outwardly composed, his eyes widened slightly, and he winced as he swallowed. </p><p>Walton had never seen someone drink rum in such a refined manner, and almost found himself chuckling. Though he suppressed this reaction, he was unable to stop a smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. </p><p>“I suppose you must wish to know more about me." Victor commented, staring at the liquid in his glass as he swayed it from side to side. "It would only be fair, after all." </p><p>Walton realized that Victor was awaiting an affirmation on his part, and blinked, dispelling the fragments of verse that had been flitting through his mind. </p><p>"Yes, I'd like to.” Walton glanced at him sympathetically, “Though, if it pains you to speak of it, you needn't go to the trouble." He said, recognizing that the unshakeable melancholy Victor sometimes slipped into was beginning to steal over him as he took another, larger mouthful from his glass, this time without any reaction at all. </p><p>Walton was strangely apprehensive to hear of Victor’s past, although he was madly curious. What terrible events could have reduced this noble man to such paroxysms of misery as he had witnessed him seized by? He was also glad, in a rather strange way, for by sharing what weighed so heavily upon him, Victor would perhaps be able to take some solace in empathetic discourse.</p><p>“I had thought I should never tell another living soul. However, you have... earned my trust.” Victor paused to take another sip, levelling his gaze at him in a more open manner than usual. “And as I have said, I will tell you my unhappy tale so that you may never come to the same folly of ambition, nor become swept up in the passions for knowledge that spell the ruin of man.” </p><p>As Victor continued he spoke with increasing fervour, the same gleam in his eyes as the last time they had talked of ambition. “Judging from the character of your letters, you seem to possess a certain proficiency with words. If you would like to write down my account, you may as well do so, for you will be both the first and last person in whom I shall ever confide it.” Walton nodded, reaching for the pen and sheet of paper he had secretly been itching to lay his hands on. </p><p>Victor paused as he did so to take a lengthy drink from the glass in his hand, before he cast a somber, resigned glance at him, and began to recount his tale.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading. please enjoy as a bonus, a poem I composed during the writing of this installment:</p><p>Stroke of the shoulders,<br/>Stroke of the scalp,<br/>Frankenstein's monster,<br/>lives in the alp</p><p>Hes real sad,<br/>he has no dad,<br/>he needs some halp,<br/>and he lives in the alp</p></blockquote></div></div>
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